


Werewolves Run Hot

by kerralee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, there's just a lot of feelings between these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:34:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerralee/pseuds/kerralee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a stupid beginning, the middle is a mess and the ending, the ending can only end in flames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Werewolves Run Hot

Chris doesn’t know how they became this. Truthfully he doesn’t even know what this is. They were never heading in this direction, had no intentions of heading in this direction. He doesn’t even like men. Isn’t interested in them besides the rare thought of ‘he’s attractive’, and women, he has no interest in them either. Especially that girl his father has promised him to.

Peter is different though. Peter with his excited eyes and pale skin. Peter with his body that arcs into his touch and mouth that whispers sins. Peter with a body half beast on the nights of the full moon. Peter who will kill someone, it’s only a matter of time, or so his father says.

He was trudging over to the lacrosse field when he saw him. They’d never talked before, be it because of what their families were or because Peter was the lacrosse captain and Beacon Hills’ prom king and he, well he was just the quiet kid who spent all his time in the library. He had friends but he was trained to be a warrior, a killer, and he couldn’t tell anyone that. They’d think he was insane-psychotic, send him to a mental institution until he was eighteen and then wait for him to become a murderer.

But there he was glowing blue eyes and lacrosse stick snapping forward as it sent a ball into the net. Chris had never watched a lacrosse game before, it just wasn’t his thing. Sports was never his thing, he preferred to read. He always gained valuable information from books, even the ones about fantasy lands and boys becoming knights.

If Peter noticed him for the first half hour he didn’t say anything, just kept flinging the ball into the net. One after another. Again and again. Chris had lost count of the times the ball had hit the net after the first few times. He was too busy paying attention to the fact Peter had taken his shirt off. His body was beautiful, pale-almost glowing in the darkness of the evening-and toned. He could see each muscle ripple with each movement, like his body was shifting to account for each action. He wondered if that’s what it would look like when he shifts, beautiful- regal.

               “Shouldn’t you be at home by now? Won’t Princess Kate be getting worried about her only brother not returning by his usual time?” Peter mocked as he walked over to pick up his gear next to Chris. He flashed a smile, all fangs and teeth.

He shrugged and went back to trudging through the field. Chris glanced at Peter as he caught up to him easily. His bag was slung casually over his shoulder, t-shirt half hanging out.

               “Aren’t you cold?” he blurted out and looked away sheepishly when Peter grinned-fucking grinned at him.

               “Isn’t that one of the first things your daddy taught you? Werewolves run hot.”

               “I know that. It’s just-it’s really cold out here,” Chris murmured and tugged his jacket tighter around himself.

He chanced a glance at Peter who was still smiling that carefree smile he’d only ever glimpsed a few times. It occurred to him in that moment Peter was nothing to be afraid of. He was just a boy much like himself that was born into something he had no control over.

Peter smiled at him again and grabbed his hand, dragging him into the wood before slamming him into the trunk of a tree. He should have been afraid and maybe that coiling of emotion inside his stomach was fear but it wasn’t fear of Peter. It was fear of what the fluttering inside his chest meant.

Peter had grabbed hands and pressed them against his chest. His eyebrows furrowed as he trailed his hands around Peter’s torso. He was hot, so very fucking hot.

               “How are you not combusting? You’re really hot,” he mumbled, eyebrows still drawn.

               “I know but you’re making me even hotter with the way you’re touching me,” Peter whispered back with the hint of a smirk before pressing their lips together.

That’s how it started, why Peter is curled into him under the scratchy hotel blankets now. It was a stupid beginning, the middle is a mess and the ending, the ending can only end in flames.

**Author's Note:**

> This pairing just gives me a lot of feelings.


End file.
